To Support, To Embrace, To Reach, To Caress
by whitchry9
Summary: A four part series that examines how hands can be used, especially how hands can be used between Alec Hardy and Ellie Miller. NOT ROMANTIC. Chapters do not go in order. Rated for language.
1. Chapter 1: To Caress

It had been going decently, not well, but not dreadful either, when it all went downhill like he ran. That was probably the first problem, the running, since he technically wasn't supposed to do that, but what was he supposed to say?

"_Oh, sorry, chasing a suspect? No can do, I might die, since I have this heart condition I've failed to mention, and it damn near kills me when I'm not doing anything, so I think increasing my heart rate to dangerous levels probably isn't the best idea."_

To which Miller would have obviously replied _"Oh of course sir, that explains everything, like why you wouldn't drink the coffee or eat the chips I brought you, since they were hazardous to your health. You just sit here in case he comes back, and I'll chase after the possible murderer on my own."_

Likely.

But it had been going alright, right up until the moment it wasn't, and the pain in his chest overcame his ability to stand, and somehow interfered with his vocal cords, causing them to vibrate in ways without his permission.

Miller ran over to his side, even though the man, _the murderer maybe_, was getting away, and he wanted to yell at her to chase after him, not run to his side, but the air had escaped his lungs with all that stupid crying out, and seemed unable to fill again.

And there was a tiny part of him that wanted her there, knew that he needed her there, because it was bad this time, and if he was going to die, well he sure as hell didn't want to die alone, even if the alternative was dying in front of Miller.

She practically screamed at him, begged him to tell her what was wrong, but he didn't have the voice to do so, and wasn't sure if he could even if he did, that was how much it hurt. The sirens and flashing lights reached them, the backup they had called before they left, too bloody late, like usual.

Miller bellowed at them to follow the suspect, then call an ambulance.

Hardy almost wanted to protest about that, but there was that whole air issue, and besides, he wasn't stupid enough to think that he didn't need to go to hospital, not this time. Even if it was just to stop this insufferable pain.

Of course, that would leave him with the insufferable wrath of Miller, and he couldn't tell what was worse.

"Don't you fucking die," she hissed at him.

And for a second, he entertained the notion of what she might do to him if he did. Probably revive him, yell at him, and murder him herself.

And he might have smiled at that notion, probably not that far, a grimace perhaps, if it didn't hurt so damn much, so much more than it had all the previous times.

_Dammit, _he thinks, _it must have been the running that got to me. _He thought about smiling again, but didn't, gasping for breath and Miller repeatedly telling him not to die and he heard the sirens getting nearer, not the police backup, because they were already there, but an ambulance, come to take him away.

Again.

He was almost thankful for that, since the breathing still wasn't going well, and despite Ellie having loosened his shirt and undone his tie, he felt like he was choking, and ambulances tended to have oxygen, which would likely remove these damn spots at the edge of his vision, or at least they'd have some good pain meds to knock him out so he wouldn't have to keep doing this.

It seemed like forever, but the sirens finally halted, ear splittingly near.

Miller was still clutching his hand, muttering at him about dying and murder and chips and dinner, and a bunch of other things that either didn't make sense, or that he couldn't understand, but it was sort of nice to listen to, preferable to the chatter of the paramedics as they ripped his shirt off and tried to ask him questions he still didn't have the breath to answer. They shoved an oxygen mask onto his face and sticky pads onto his chest, stuck a needle in his hand and wires on his fingers, all the while talking at him. And Alec could only blink from behind the oxygen mask, like they were speaking a foreign language he could understand, but just couldn't speak.

One of them sprayed something under his tongue, and the other began asking Miller the questions, none of which she could answer either, and he might have laughed again if he could have, because this was getting really amusing.

The pain slightly lessened, and his vision cleared a little, but he was still struggling to get air into his lungs, a never ending battle he seemed doomed to lose. And that infernal beeping that must be his heart, since it was stubbornly sporadic and rapid.

They shifted him onto a gurney, a process that was unavoidably embarrassing, a fact he really couldn't be bothered with now, since he was sure the worst was still yet to come, whatever was going to happen at the hospital.

There was talk of drugs and conditions and rhythms and pacing and cardioversion, none of which sounded pleasant to him, and all of which he wished to avoid, but still had no breath to say so, still gasping despite the oxygen mask on his face and the drugs they had sent pumping through his veins.

He was on the gurney, and as they lifted him into the ambulance, Miller's pinched face still following him, although not clutching at his hand anymore, his vision blurred again, and he knew he was going to lose consciousness soon.

And he welcomed the darkness, the absence of pain, and the last thing he felt before slipping there was Miller's hand slipping into his once again. And he didn't know why, but he was glad.


	2. Chapter 2: To Support

The bloody fool had checked himself out of the hospital, after nearing dying on her last night (and she wasn't lying about that, the doctors did tell her because she told them he was an important part of a murder investigation, and they spilled everything) and was now stumbling up the hallway. He looked more like a zombie than a human, but one of those slow stumbling zombies, rather than the fast ones on some of the games Tom played.

He was hugging the wall as he made his way towards her, the idiot that he was.

"Don't be ridiculous," she said incredulously.

"Don't start Miller," he warned.

Ellie protested "You can't be here."

"Well, I am," he muttered.

"You'll kill yourself." And wasn't that the truth. He nearly died on her last night, and it was all she needed to have him die on her today at work, after he should obviously have been sent off on sick leave, indefinitely, and sure as hell shouldn't be working like this, let alone leave the hospital. Did he even know how much paperwork she would have to do if he dropped dead?

"If that's what it takes." He sounded breathy as he said this, like the walk so far had tired him. How had he even gotten here?

"No it's not worth dying for." One death was enough for their town. And they would find out who killed Danny with or without him. It may take them longer, but what was a couple days, or even weeks, compared to a life? Apparently, he didn't see it the same way.

"Not for you maybe," he muttered, lifting his wrist to his teeth to gnaw off the bracelet.

"Go away, we can manage without you," she ordered, and he stopped to lean against the wall.

"That's what you've wanted right from the start. This job. The job you think I stole."

"What- for god's sake sir."

"Come on Miller. With me out you get to lead. Dream come true." _Not anymore it's not._

"I wouldn't want your job," she told him, and it was the truth.

"Don't be daft, if you got offered it you'd take it."

"No, I wouldn't be up to it."

"Yeah, you're right."

"What?" He had the nerve to say that to her. He was barely competent as it was at the moment.

"Well, it's a tough job. You've found your level. Rural DS. Keep it within your limits."

"Don't tell me what my limits are," she warned.

"Then don't tell me to go home. I can still solve this. Otherwise, why am I still here." His voice cracked as he said that, and something stupidly sentimental in her stirred.

"Oh, for god's sake. Alright then," she sighed, motioning him onwards.

He pushed himself off the wall, tongue sticking out of his mouth with exertion, and she wanted to offer him a shoulder, an arm, some sort of support, but she knew him too well for that. Because Alec Hardy was the sort of man who would rather fall flat on his face than accept the help of someone else. He was stupid that way.

So she just followed behind in case she needed to do damage control or cleanup.


	3. Chapter 3: To Reach

Ellie was crouched on the floor, gagging at the thought of her husband being the one to murder Danny.

And what else was Alec supposed to do but hold her? Of course, that wouldn't have been the best idea right about now, so instead he just reached a hand out and clasped her shoulder to reassure her that he was there.

And he really did want it to not be Joe. He had hoped he was wrong. But he wasn't.

But the moment he called her Ellie, that was when she realized. That was his mistake. After that first day, when he'd rolled it around in his mouth before deciding it didn't taste quite right, it had always been Miller. Except for that one time. She had to know something was different. And it was only too late that he realized that.

"Please Ellie," he'd pleaded.

"Don't call me Ellie." _You don't call me Ellie. Something must be wrong._

She answered his questions, but knew something was off. It was when he got up to sit next to her that she asked again, this time finally getting her answers. But they were answers she wouldn't like.

"What are you doing? Why are you coming around here?"

He ignored her and took the seat next to her.

"It was Joe," he whispered. "Joe killed Danny Latimer."

"No."

And it all went downhill from there as she realized what he had.

He knelt down next to her.

"It's all right," he murmured, resting his hand on her shoulder. His face tightened at the thought of what she was going through, of what she would have to endure, all because of what her husband did.

She shrugged his arm off, but he kept it hovering just above her elbow.

He only wished he could tell her what she wanted to hear. But that wasn't possible.

"I want to see him," she insisted, wiping the tears from her eyes.

He helped her up, hand only glancing off her arm, more to let her know he was still there than anything else.


	4. Chapter 4: To Embrace

Ellie showed up at his hotel room, and he let her in without a word. She had a ridiculously coloured jacket on, and sat down in one of the chairs without taking it off.

Neither of them said anything for an impossibly long time, her just playing with the gloves she'd worn. She must have walked a while, perhaps right through the field that he'd walked through only that morning while tracking the phone.

And she asked. He thought about lying, about telling her what she really wanted to hear, but both of them knew that wouldn't do either any good. So he told her. And she protested. Just like they knew they would.

_Just because he hadn't yet didn't mean he wasn't going to in the future._

_But it didn't mean he was._

"I mean, I don't have these answers, I don't. People are unknowable. And..." he sighed, knowing this wasn't meant for Ellie so much as it was meant for himself. "You can never really know what goes on inside someone else's heart," he'd said finally, looking up at her.

"All along you said don't trust," Ellie said, shaking her head slightly.

Alec looked away for a second before replying. "I really wanted to be wrong," he said again.

She clenched her fingers and looked away from him.

Alec remained silent for a while, not wanting to say the wrong thing. He figured he'd done enough of that for one day.

"I should get back," she said finally. "Olly and my sister are watching the kids..."

"Of course," he agreed, standing up.

They embraced before she left his hotel room, both of them wrapping their arms around the other without a word.

Ellie disappeared into the night, and Alec watched her go until he couldn't see her anymore, feeling an ache in his chest that had nothing to do with his heart arrhythmia.


End file.
